Annie Jacobson (Ella Rubin) is as Type A as a New York City student can get. However, when she and her twin brother Connor (Keen Ruffalo) discover that their estranged maternal grandfather has passed away and left them a lake island, Annie decides to pick up her life and spend the summer at the titular island, Sterling Point. This coming-of-age show is not just a romance, but an exploration of class divide.

The two primary love interests are Rory (Daniel Quinn-Toye) and Ellis (Jacob Whiteduck-Lavoie). Ellis is a Sterling Point local who spends his days flying the seaplane and repairing the boats of rich families like Rory's, who is Annie's former classmate. Rory and Ellis represent two contrasting worlds: old money and no money.

I appreciate being able to observe a love triangle with such nuance. So often we are presented with a cut-and-dried “winner” in these tropes, but Sterling Point avoids this pitfall. Many forms of modern media dismantle the audience’s perception of the “secondary” love interest to ensure that the protagonist ends up with “the right one”. Instead, Sterling Point presents us with two multi-dimensional love interests.

Annie connects with both love interests quite differently, which is reflective of their upbringing. Rory has no qualms about pursuing Annie, mirroring the confidence of someone accustomed to getting everything that money can buy. However, Rory is not easily pigeonholed into the heartless rich kid trope. He is a vulnerable and emotionally intelligent person who consistently communicates his feelings with Annie. Meanwhile, Ellis and Annie clearly share a connection, but it develops much more gradually than Annie's relationship with Rory. After all, Annie is an outsider; she comes from an entirely different country, economic background and lifestyle, which helps explain Ellis’ hesitancy towards expressing his feelings towards her. 

Moreover, Rory and Ellis are representative of Annie’s conflicting identity: her structured, career-driven life with her father in New York, and her connection to her mother's slower-paced, community-oriented life in Sterling Point.

Annie is an immensely compelling protagonist. Her tendency to over-plan and seek certainty contrasts sharply with the unpredictability of Sterling Point, making her personal growth particularly rewarding to watch. While many coming-of-age protagonists are reactive, Annie actively shapes her own journey, even when doing so requires her to challenge the expectations she has long held for herself.

The show’s exploration of class is equally thoughtful. In an attempt to dissuade Annie from staying at Sterling Point, Rory claims that “no one” lives on the island, dismissing the hard-working people, like Ellis, who inhabit the island year-round. I don't believe Rory’s behaviour is intentionally malicious; rather, it is rooted in ignorance born from class privilege.

Annie comes from a privileged world, with the ability to up and leave her life in New York on a whim. In Sterling Point, she is exposed to an alternative lifestyle, of which she grows extremely fond. Where, in New York, Annie has to drown out the city’s racket with a noise machine, on the island, she instead relishes the sound of nature surrounding her grandfather's cottage.

Sterling Point doesn't privilege either world; instead, it highlights both their benefits and shortcomings. New York offers Annie ambition, opportunity and structure, while Sterling Point provides community, connection and simplicity. Rather than framing one lifestyle as inherently superior, the series encourages viewers to understand why Annie feels drawn to both.

The highest praise I can give this series is for its dialogue. Megan Park is a screenwriting genius. Never before have I watched a show with such naturalistic teen conversations. The expert implementation of vernacular, including discourse markers and slang, is a breath of fresh air amidst the rigid, overly formal dialogue that so often plagues young adult television. The conversations feel authentic, never forced, allowing the characters to sound like actual teenagers rather than teenagers written by adults.

Sterling Point isn't simply a romance; it’s an exploration of identity. For me, what truly separates it from other shows in the genre is its treatment of family relationships. Over a short period of time, Annie’s family tree sprawls out further than she has ever known, and she is forced to grapple with these new connections and the ways in which they may complicate her existing ones.

What makes the show particularly compelling is that Annie's journey is not ultimately about choosing between two boys, but about choosing who she wants to be. Rory and Ellis may represent different futures, but the series consistently centres on Annie’s growing understanding of herself, her family history and the life she wants to lead.

Ultimately, Sterling Point succeeds because it trusts its audience. It refuses to reduce its characters to stereotypes, or its central conflict to a superficial love story. By combining nuanced relationships, thoughtful class commentary, authentic dialogue and a genuinely moving coming-of-age story, the series delivers something far more substantial than a typical teen romance.